


Supplication

by jcknits63



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Disney Cartoons (Classic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Western, Country & Western, Eventual Romance, F/M, Multi, Romance, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 02:30:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcknits63/pseuds/jcknits63
Summary: AU. She was a fountain of forbidden nectar. His throat burned and his eyes glowed red with desire and thirst.





	Supplication

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone this is an alternate universe one-shot story. All characters are human/people.

The Sonoran desert sky was painted with oranges and reds, purples and pinks. Below it was an impressive landscape, cliffs and dunes for as far as the eye could see. Sand and rock and cactus, these made up the majestic land. Settlers made made up towns, rounded up the natives, and mined, mined, mined for the precious rocks of the land.   
  
Donald and his Uncle Scrooge overlooked the majestic tapestry from a cliffside.  
  
They had arrived to the West at last!  
  
Both were on foot. Horses were spooked with their kind and travelling was easier in the shadows.  
  
While Uncle Scrooge would have preferred to stay in the East, Donald was able to convince him a new life waited for them in the wild, wild West. Outlaws ran wild, so they would never run out of food. They would be doing their country a service, sucking out the blood of all the human vermin. It was the siren call of gold that finally convinced the older vampire. He may have been souless, but that man was still a greedy son of a bitch.  
  
Donald wasn't proud of who he was, a monster, a creature of the night. He loathed the fact he needed blood to survive and that his life revolved around his thirst. He didn't _ask_ for this life. Uncle may have accepted it head-on, but Donald held on to some semblance of morality. The further he and uncle were away from busy cities, the better they could be. They could curb their appetite perhaps, and learn to live in solitude. Away from other bloodsuckers and away from their prey.  
  
From the horizon, a collection of bright lights could be seen.  
  
"It has to be a town Donald," Uncle pointed to it, " we shall spend the night there." He closed his pocket watch. It was precisely 6 o'clock.  
  
The two grinned at each other then ran, at their top speed, through the desert to reach the town in thirty minutes time.

 

* * *

  
  
  
Daisy sifted through her silk handbag, her manicured, red nails clicked against the stuff inside. A lace handkerchief. Some old man's pocketwatch. Her lucky pendant. A tube of lipstick.  
  
Ah-ha!  
  
She pulled out her favorite fan and began fanning herself. Back and forth, she felt some relief over her skin. The beads of sweat from waiting and waiting in that hot room began to creep away.  
  
The walls in the room were painted a garish orange. The decorations were equally tacky. The paintings were hung in bronze-colored chipped frames. The coffee table had a cardboard under one of its legs, and a greasy flower vase adorned the top. The single, dusty silk flower inside said vase irritated Daisy the most. Couldn't they put fresh flowers for once? Customers wouldn't be able to tell, but she could.   
  
If she was lucky, she could close her eyes and block the ugly flower. She didn't get to chose which room to perform her work. Sometimes, a customer would request for a specific room and a specific lady, and they were accommodated with both.  
  
She waited for the polite knock on her door, and a man being ushered in by the girls in front.  
  
"Miss Daisy's been  _awfully_ lonely, haven't you lazy Daisy?" Daisy bit her lip and nodded, playing along. She tucked her fan back into her purse and pushed her sweaty breasts together, her work as a temptress resumed once again.  
  
By night fall, she begged the  _madame_ for a break. She was smelling like men and she was hungry. After what seemed like an eternity, the tyrant let her go.  
  
Daisy freshened up in the washroom, applying cold water to her face, chest, and neck. She combed her gold curls out and put her hair up. She didn't bother with makeup, for she was tired and by that time many customers chose to do the deed with the light off anyway. She could always apply a little lipstick after dinner to fool the customers. In her homespun dress, bonnet, and bare face, Daisy felt comfortable at last.   
  
She made her way down to the saloon, where many of her sisters were busy gambling and drinking with the saloon's patrons. Many of the patrons whistled at her to come over. She could hear jeers of men asking why she was so covered up. She quietly asked for a plate of food, paid, and took her dinner outside. Even though the horses trough smelled awful, it was better than the sweaty mess inside the saloon.  
  
She was eating in peace and quiet, when she heard shuffling and grunting. People fought all the time, so Daisy pointedly looked into her plate and continued eating.   
  
Then, a muffled scream was cut short, and an ominous slurping followed. She gulped, her hunger suddenly gone. The air changed, the still quiet of the night was no longer tolerable. The light sheen of sweat on her brow and pit in her stomach grew by the minute. She had to get inside. Whatever was out there wasn't _human_.  
  
She moved as calmly and quietly as possible. Her dress snagged with a rusty nail as she tried to walk back inside. The tin plate and fork clattered and hit the floor.  
  
_Shit.Shit.Shit!_  
  
She panicked in place. She bend down and blindly searched for the snag. Carelessly, she cut her finger with the stuck-up nail.  
  
Donald and his uncle hid in the nearby alley. Their victim was Two-Thirds Tim, a convict with a short stature and a short temper. He laid next to them, nearly mummified. The two vampires hadn't eaten since El Paso. Then, the sweet aroma of fresh blood reached them. It was a prostitute, who had the misfortune of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.  
  
Uncle licked his lips, getting ready for his next prey. Donald held his arm in front of his uncle's path.  
  
"We have to get rid of this body," Donald hissed, "we've drunk enough. I will make sure the girl doesn't see us but please uncle, get rid of this body." His uncle wasn't too pleased, for fresh blood tasted the best. Was it his fault the stupid girl cut herself? But, he had promised his nephew to be _good_. He grabbed the mummified corpse by its armpits and dragged it away.   
  
Donald's steps were barely heard as he appeared in front of the girl. She was shaking and sickly pale. Despite the stench of vomit on the front of her dress, he could still smell her sweet, sweet blood. Donald was shaking himself. He could  _taste_ the blood from her finger. It took all his willpower to hold his breath and kneel in front of the girl.  
  
She looked up and nearly cried. Even in the shadows, Donald's ominous red eyes glowed. His hair, usually slicked back, was in a disarray with the scuffle from earlier. Perhaps the most nightmarish was the blood on the corner of his mouth. Daisy knew nothing else stained that dark in the nighttime.  
  
She was going to die. Oh God, this demon was going to kill her! She cried harder, didn't anyone see she was missing? She prayed this demon wouldn't harm her.  
  
Seeing the girl panic, Donald pressed a finger to his lips. She nodded mutely. He quickly pulled a handkerchief to wipe her mouth and chin first. Shakily, he was also able to wipe her bloody finger. He then freed her dress from the nail. Once he was done with the ministrations, he held her head in his hands. How petite and fragile, he could easily crush her head or snap her neck. No, he was determined to prove that he was capable of good.  
  
His red eyes locked with her honey-brown eyes. She was very delicate, like a doll. She was also very pretty.   
  
He murmured an incantation, one he used to hypnotize animals and mortals alike. Her honey-brown eyes clouded and she stood up when Donald did.   
  
"You will walk inside and alert _no one_. You will forget my face." He instructed, the mortal girl nodded once more. She walked back inside, to the safety of her kind.  
  
Daisy made her way up to brothel and when she was out of anyone's view, raced to the washroom. She washed her mouth and chin and dabbed the vomit on her dress away. Her reflection in the mirror was scared and she was shaking like a leaf.  
  
Did...did that stranger try to hypnotize her? His demonic red eyes had turned a ghastly green as he uttered the incantation and then his commands. She grabbed at her neck, where her favorite pendant rested beneath her dowdy dress. She quickly grabbed it out, almost burning her hands. The pendant was searing hot.   
  
Her mama had given her the pendant before she passed away. The older woman had told her it was special, and to never, _ever_ show it to anyone. Daisy kept it as a good luck charm, and even on nights when she was starving, she refused to pawn the family heirloom. Daisy didn't know much of the pendant, but after the evening's events, she knew it was magical. It protected her from the demon stranger. What else could he be? His pale skin, his red eyes, and his proud stance, he had to be from another world. But, why did he help her and clean her up? Why did he make himself forgotten rather than killing her?

* * *

  
  
After a night of tossing and turning, Daisy opted to start her morning chores early. She went down to the saloon and began cooking for the other girls and helping the barkeep with sweeping and washing glasses. It was mid-morning when the rest of the town was bustling with activity, and patrons returned for a delicious breakfast. She was trying so hard to focus on her chores, hoping she could forget what transpired the night before. She hoped the stranger had left, or better yet that he was a figment of her exhaustion and she could move on.  
  
"Didja hear about No-Thirds Tim? He's dead," a passerby commented.  
  
"He wasn't Tim No-Thirds! He was a Tim Two-Thirds!" Another commented back.  
  
"See here," the first passerby angrily replied, " if he's dead, then he ain't got two-thirds no more."   
  
Tim Two-Thirds wasn't a nice man. He was a thief and a murderer and a sadist. Daisy shuddered at the times he paid to visit her and the girls, his slimy stench over them and the bruises he left behind. Good riddance.  
  
The sheriff walked in shortly after, accompanied by two men. Both were impeccably dressed in black and blue clothes. They had bandanas pulled up to their nose like outlaws.  
  
"An' this here's the saloon. Brothel's on the top floor. You gentlemen be sure to visit.  _Madame's_ got the nicest girls West of the Colorado river."  
  
The shorter man lowered his bandana. He was much older, with a neat white beard and mustache. He took off his blue hat and smiled back at the sheriff.  
  
"Well don't mind if I do," he chuckled. He then nudged at the taller man in agreement. The taller man nodded then lowered his bandana.   
  
It was the demon.  
  
Daisy's hands slipped on the glass she was holding. It rolled on its side, but thankfully it didn't shatter.  
  
The demon's red eyes looked at her. She froze, the glass rolling away from her.  
  
"Yer a clumsy gal," chastised the barkeep, "pick that UP!"  
  
Daisy gulped. She had seriously blown her cover. The demon's eyes followed her movements, even the shorter man noticed but only smirked. She picked up the glass and walked back calmly to the counter to continue cleaning glasses.  
  
"Maybe we will visit," the demon murmured as he walked away with the sheriff who made his way around the room, introducing them to other townpeople.  
  
Donald's hypnosis  _never_ failed. It was why he became an asset to his uncle, for the latter couldn't hypnotize others. Uncle could, however, misinterpret things.  
  
"You still thirst for her Donald," he said in sing-song, "she's into you as well, the little harlot. Why don't you both give each other what you need, eh?"   
  
At least uncle didn't suspect Donald's hypnosis failed. Donald smirked at his uncle, playing along, "maybe I do uncle. A pretty little woman like her will do just right. I shall visit her, tonight."  
  
He had no choice. The hypnosis failed. Yet, the woman hadn't told the townspeople. His secret was safe, but for how long?  
  
Later that day, he and his uncle returned to the front entrance of the brothel. Uncle went through many girl's descriptions, looking for a perfect evening companion. When it was Donald's turn, he merely asked for the pretty blonde at the bar cleaning glasses.   
  
"That's our Daisy," the receptionist chuckled, "don't be fooled by all those layers she wears. She's quite a little vixen."  
  
Daisy was wringing her hands. Her appointments were flying by too quick. A little birdie told her a handsome stranger and his uncle were coming to the brothel. That could only be the demon. The sooner he came and got whatever the hell he needed, the better.   
  
A polite knock interrupted her thoughts. She went through her routine, pushing her breasts together in the low cut dress she picked out and seductively draping her body over the bed. The receptionist ushered in the client.  
  
The demon.   
  
"Alright Mr. Duck, if you need anything, _anything_ ," the receptionist sized him up, "you let me know." She shot Daisy a dirty look then smiled at the demon and shut the door.  
  
Daisy gulped. She couldn't jump from the second story window without breaking bones and she couldn't get far anyway. She relaxed from her pose and sat up on the bed, smoothing out her dress. Her pendant was hiding under one of the pillows, so she felt a little safer.  
  
"I just came to talk Ms.Daisy," the demon put his arms up, " my name is Donald Duck. I have no weapons and I promise not to harm you. I just needed to find a place to talk to you without being interrupted. Are these walls thick?"  
  
Daisy nodded. They had to be, lest customers heard the frantic, scared pleas of the girls as others performed disgusting things to them. How many times did Daisy wish someone would break down those walls and save her?   
  
"What do you want to talk about?"  
  
"How much did you see last night?" Donald said, sitting on the little table. He moved the greasy vase with the red silk flower to the floor and looked up at her.  
  
"I remember eating dinner, then I heard a muffled scream. I tried to run back, but a nail caught my dress. I panicked, then you showed up. You..." Daisy paused, Donald's expression grew intense.   
  
"It's not your fault," he replied, "my uncle and I weren't careful. I thought I could spare you and make you forget. Now you're scared and I can't have our cover blown."  
  
"I haven't told anyone," Daisy snapped, "I'm not some stupid girl. Your trick may not have worked, but I can keep a secret. I do have some sense of self-preservation you know." She was negotiating with a demon! Daisy nearly shrieked. But the way he was talking and acting, he didn't seem all that bad.  
  
"Are you mortal?" He questioned, looking deep into her eyes. Daisy blushed. His red eyes had softened, as if he could see into all her secrets.  
  
"I am," she said. A stupid, stupid part of her wanted to tell the demon, Donald, that her pendant had protected her. She wanted to ease his worry. No, no, no, she had an advantage of survival, no matter how nice and tame Donald seemed she couldn't give it up.  
  
"Well, you're the first mortal who is immune to my hypnosis. I've been able to charm anyone and anything, except for other supernatural beings."  
  
"What like _el chupacabra_?" Daisy joked, her hands folded in her lap now.  
  
"Yeah, like el _el chupacabra_ ," Donald replied in a deadpan tone. But then, he found himself smiling at the girl, who had now relaxed in his presence. She was easy to talk to and while her blood  _sang_ to him, he found it horrifying to end her life for temporary satisfaction.  
  
"What...what are you, really? I ought to know," Daisy timidly asked. Donald looked down to her hands and knuckles, nearly white with how tight she was holding herself.  
  
"Truth is stranger than fiction Daisy. Do you believe in ghost stories?"   
  
She nodded, trying not to smile. He was being too corny with his delivery. She almost believed he wasn't scary.  
  
"My uncle and I killed that man, Tim Two-Thirds. We drank his blood and burned his corpse."  
  
Daisy clutched at her neck and leaned further into the bed. Donald and his uncle were...vampires? Ghost stories, old wives' tales... and here was a supernatural being of legend, at her feet supplicating to keep his secret. At that thought, she blushed. No, no, no! She should be afraid, worried, and disgusted. A murderer who drank blood was asking her to keep secrets. But, how was Donald any different than the bandits that roamed the town?   
  
She leaned forward, and released her grip from her throat.  
  
"Well at least you're more of a man than the creatures I'm forced to sleep with," Daisy said, "so what now bloodsucker? Will you and your uncle stay long in town? Are you only killing bandits?"  
  
"One at a time. We are only having the sheriff provide us with documents. We intend to build a home closer to the Sonora desert but need an official to approve it. Yes, my hope is to only feed off the theives and bandits. Uncle needs some restraint, at least out here he can feed off the vermin...." he stopped to look at Daisy, who didn't look as scared. She did look displeased.  
  
"Not that mortals are like that," he hastily added, "it's hard to live in populated areas. At least in the desert we can discipline ourselves. I don't want to be a monster, but everything I say and think is what a monster would say and think. I'm always in a battle, I'm still so thirsty and your blood is...I just don't want my thirst to control me anymore."   
  
Donald fell silent. It was strange to say these things to a complete stranger, but he didn't have anyone to talk to. His uncle was trying to be better, for Donald's sake, and Donald felt ashamed to complain to him.  
  
Daisy didn't know what came over her. Temporary insanity, maybe. She patted the mattress space next to her so Donald could sit with her.  
  
He hesitated, then sat next to her, their knees almost touching. Daisy hadn't felt this exhilarated with  _almost_ touching someone since she was a teenager.   
  
She then motioned the vampire to rest his head on her lap, and she began to rub his head. She ran her fingers through his neat, blond hair. She mussed through his hair, fascinated at breaking down the image of the vampire pretending to be the perfect man.  
  
"You don't want to go out there before an hour's time," she chatted, "people in this town will talk. You'll be known as Donny one-shot. A short, unsatisfying, below-average shot."  
  
He didn't care what those people thought about him at all. He closed his eyes, her hands worked wonders at him. How he wished to stay like that forever! Daisy's hands were heavenly, easing his tension. He held his breath, he was so close to her, he didn't want to give in to the temptation.  
  
"You asleep?" She mumbled after a while. She hands were starting to ache so she slowed her pace.  
  
"Vampires sleep in a coffin."   
  
She gasped, until she looked down and saw his eyes glow mischievously.  
  
"Why do you tease me like that?"  
  
"It's funny," he said, "I've never joked with my dinner before." She smacked his head.  
  
"Ouch! Oow!ow! What was that for? Im kidding. I won't eat you. And I don't sleep in a coffin, but I do need to carry dirt from my hometown. Uncle and I found out the hard way when we left Boston. We writhed in pain and nearly went insane."  
  
Donald looked up to Daisy, who was making sense of his strange tale. But it was true!   
  
He and uncle were in the outskirts of Bostom when the agony began. They couldn't walk, and were doubled over in pain. Only when they thought to walk a few steps back to Boston did the pain ease away. At first it was like a curse, they could never leave their city, but over time they learned they could carry soil with them and be okay.  
  
"You'll be surrounded by sand," she stated, "how much soil do you have to live here comfortably?"  
  
"Not to boast but uncle has money," Donald replied, slowly getting up from Daisy's lap. "We will transport some to our new home. Uncle and I are also bestowed with inhumane strength. We can build a large home in no time. Especially since there isn't a lot of travellers here. It will be easier and with less suspicion."  
  
A home. A family. A purpose. Donald really had it all, Daisy thought to herself. Here she was, working to the bone, alone, and doomed. She didn't want wrinkles with all her frowning, so she chose to smile at the vampire.  
  
"It's been an hour's time, you best be going. And please, don't ask for me again."  
  
A clean break, she thought. He wouldn't return to see her. He got her vow of silence, a few smiles and laughs, and her soft hands to caress him. She would move onto the next customer, and he would worry about his thirst. Or whatever tame vampires worried about.  
  
Daisy looked down to her hands, ice cold after touching the vampire. She wanted to place them over her warming heart. Only dummies became infatuated with clients.  
  
Donald's face was written with surprise. Hadn't he gotten closer to the girl just now? Laughing and smiling in her lap? Was she really a heartless harpy? He supposed so. A damned beast deserved this, to remind him love and happiness were unattainable in his life.  
  
"Beg pardon," he said, barely above a whisper, swiftly getting up from the mattress and walking out the door. He couldn't slam the door, for fear of breaking the door frame with his damned herculean strength.  
  
Donald craved a cigarette. He had no use for the nicotine, but it felt nice to hold and remember simpler times. He had liked to sail with the boys and smoke and drink from sunset to sunrise. He would take a long, drag of the cigarette as his friends laughed and talked back and forth. The good old days when breathing was effortless and thirst was quenched with beer and water.  
  
Daisy was a distraction, he scolded himself a few weeks after. She was also kind and intelligent and _bewitching_. She held her fear back for him. She listened and understood. She wasn't a heartless harpy. Donald knew she was special, and she didn't need to be burdened with his lifestyle.  
  
He wasn't hungry or tired or bored, as his uncle pointed out. Then his uncle had to go on and spout this garbage: you must be lovesick then. Go visit your little flower then come back and make yourself useful.  
  
Donald couldn't see his reflection in the mirror, but he knew he looked mean. Grouchy vampires looked more pissed than anything else.  
  
It wasn't fair.   
  
Why were her fair eyes and warm smile haunting his dreams? Why did her hands ghost over his head, the nape of his neck, and his face?   
  
Lovesick.  
  
He had flings and had been infatuated before. This wasn't new. Yet, Daisy had such an effect over him. Better than blood.  
  
He was...trapped.   
  
He had to go see her. Apologize. Tell her he wanted her and hoped she could want him one day too.

 

* * *

  
  
Daisy's days went on just the same. Terrible men, terrible pay, terrible heat. It was the eve of August, and the scorching sun brought business to a near standstill. People still drank, so most nights Daisy served drinks or helped upkeep the bar. Her warming heart and her stupid infatuation were hard to let go.  
  
She liked how Donald's head fit on her lap and how his blood-red eyes glowed with mischief. She missed his tone of voice. Donald and his uncle had barely been seen in town. Not that she asked around. Although She did happen to overhear Dolly and Jolene say they missed the uncle and wished he came back to visit. The nephew had a bad case of 'touch me and die' and didn't sleep with anyone.  
  
"He would be so fun though," Jolene said wistfully.  
  
Yeah, sucking all your blood and burning your skinny corpse. Daisy bitterly thought.   
  
One night, she took off. Daisy took a deep breath. Hot, smoky air from the dying fires filled her lungs. People were closing up shops and turning in for the night. She was in her favorite blood-red and black dress, with a sweetheart neckline and red sequins. She gathered up her skirts and walked in the direction of Donald's house.   
  
She wasn't afraid or tired or thirsty. She was determined to tell the vampire how she felt. At least that way she could get closure on her infatuation.   
  
On the other side was Donald, racing through the sand and rock and cactus. He could faintly sense Daisy's blood. She wasn't in town, but she wasn't close to his house either.   
  
After a couple of hours, he slowed his pace and finally stopped.   
  
Daisy was in front of him. She crossed her arms, the lamp she held was by her waist. She could faintly see his ghoulish eyes and his towering frame in the dark desert.  
  
"Daisy," Donald murmured reverently. He wanted to reach out to her, but he didn't want to frighten her.  
  
"Yes?" Daisy replied expectantly. Every fiber in her being propelled her closer and closer to the vampire.  
  
"I'm sorry for frightening you and for looking for you now," Donald began,"if you never want to see me again, say the word and I'll leave. I'll leave the state if I have to...but if you want me to stay, I will do so."  
  
"I don't want you to leave." She blurted out. Her hand reached for him impulsively.   
  
He moved closer, taking her hand into his. Her breath hitched. It was perfect, when his hand touched hers. It was instant winter, a frozen touch. They stayed in that spot, holding hands and staring into each other's eyes. Finally, Daisy let her fingers slip through his and return to her side. She tucked a few wisps of hair behind her ear and smiled gently.  
  
"Why don't you come back to my place? I mean, we can talk freely and it would be an honor to have you as a guest."   
  
"Only as a guest, I don't intend to be food," she mocked him, "where is your horse? We're in the middle of the desert."  
  
"No horse," Donald said, "you're going to climb on my back and we'll head back to the house. As a guest, not food." Daisy didn't even have time to react as Donald kneeled in front of her so she could piggyback ride him.  
  
"Hmmm, I guess you'll do as a horse," she said, climbing slowly onto his back. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her skirts hiked up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Once she was secured, Donald took off running again.  
  
The cold wind was refreshing to both, how Donald could see in the dark was beyond Daisy. His legs never failed, nor did he trip over any rocks or dips in the land.   
  
Donald ran as fast as his legs could carry Daisy and him. The home was large, lit with a few lamps in the porch. After so much darkness, it was hard for Daisy's eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. She blinked, and climbed off Donald's back.  
  
"Thank you Donald. For bringing me here," she gestured to the house, "it looks very nice."  
  
"Come in, come in," he said, opening the door for her. Inside was as magnificent as the outside. The walls were neatly painted in blue, with no ornaments or paintings hung up. The wooden floors had heavy carpets, Daisy felt as if she had wandered into a sultan's room by mistake!  
  
  
In the kitchen was Donald's uncle, sitting at the table. He had a glass in front of him, and his nose in a book.   
  
Donald cleared his throat, "Uncle, I've brought a guest. This is Daisy. Daisy, meet my Uncle Scrooge." His uncle lifted his head from the book. His eyes crinkled as he smiled widely at Daisy.  
  
"Pleased to meet you Daisy! You will have to apologize my manners from weeks ago. I don't think of you ladies as mere playthings. You will also have to excuse my manners for tonight, I'm drinking my dinner in order to tolerant other mortals. I have a harder time controlling my thirst than Donald. I don't want to do anything I will regret."  
  
A chilling apology indeed, Daisy thought. She weakly nodded as Donald quickly ushered her out of the kitchen and towards one of the rooms.  
  
"My uncle means well, he's trying. We take things day by day and are learning to take less and less blood. I will keep you safe," Donald assured her.  
  
"You're not...thirsty?"  
  
"I could not live with myself if I harmed you," he confessed, "I'm growing to tolerate my thirst. I've been drinking the blood of animals, when I'm desperate. Anything to control myself around you."  
  
Daisy blushed. She hadn't talked to him for weeks, and here he was controlling his thirst in case they met again. She looked into the room he brought her to. It was painted in a deep navy blue. His furniture was dark black wood, and his window overlooked the desert and the night sky.   
  
His bed was large, with several pillows and cushions. She felt herself yawn, the bed looked so inviting. The night run with Donald had left her cold all of a sudden.  
  
"You can borrow some clothes and sleep here, " he said, holding his hands out to her. "I insist."  
  
She took his hands as he pulled her closer. He gently brought her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss on them.  
  
Daisy nodded. She felt heavy and leaned to Donald. He quickly lifted her and laid her on his bed. "Get some sleep. I'll be in the next room if you need anything." She nodded one last time before closing her eyes. Her chest rose and fell and light snores followed. Donald couldn't help but smile. He brought the comforter up to her shoulders to cover her before he exited the room.  
  
The next morning, Daisy woke up in a sea of gray and blue and white pillows. She had slept soundly and well into the morning.  
  
Oh no!   
  
She scrambled off Donald's bed. She had to go back to work, or the bar, to her chores. She had been swept from Donald's words and house and looks and now....  
  
But he liked her too! He kissed her hands and brought her to his house. His touch was gentle and firm, there was no hint of lechery. She slept in a man's bed, without having to bed him....  
  
She did her best to fix her hair and clothes. The room had no mirrors. It had to be a vampire thing.  
  
She opened the door and made her way to the main room. She bumped into Donald, who smiled at Daisy.  
  
"I've made breakfast. Or rather, I tried. I haven't cooked human food in so long. It looks okay and smells okay..." his speech trailed off when he saw the desperation in her eyes  
  
"I'm really late for work," she said, "but I also want to stay here for breakfast and to talk and I don't know..."  
  
  
"Come then, I'll take you back," he said ruefully, " I suppose I wanted you to stay longer."  
  
"I don't want to leave either," Daisy stated, "but I can't just abandon everything." She looked down, disappointed at the words leaving her lips. What life did she have in that town that Donald couldn't easily improve by a million? Just being with him was a blessing. A demon giving her a blessing? That was just the way things happened in the desert.  
  
"I can buy your freedom," he said slowly,   
"I can erase your debt with the brothel and you can have your life again. If you choose to stay with me, then I would be the happiest undead man in the world."  
  
Floored, Daisy rushed to him and hugged him. She was ready.  
  
"Yes, Donald," she said into the nape of his neck, " I will stay with you." Her warm tears fell to his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her waist. He was elated and overcome with passion and joy. His wonderful Daisy chose him!

* * *

  
  
The weeks that followed were all anyone could gossip about. Daisy did return to the brothel, with Donald by her side. He paid her debts against the  _madame's_  wishes, for Daisy was quite a money maker. The young woman left with only a suitcase, the gifts she had received the _madame_ also took back.  
  
Daisy didn't look back. Donald, the reluctant vampire, the tamed bloodsucker, the cute hypnotist, was a gift the _madame_ couldn't take back. He was special to her and being with him was like a dream. She moved in the Donald and his uncle right after, in the room next to Donald.  
  
It was scandalous! A young prostitute moving in with two men, unmarried and a beauty. Daisy, Donald, and uncle let them all talk. Uncle was still a prominent customer at _madame's_ , and Daisy and Donald only had eyes for each other.  
  
The trio fell into a comfortable routine. The days were spent sleeping, and the nights became their playground. Uncle learned to control his thirst around Daisy and gave her a history of the Duck family tree. Donald and Daisy enjoyed strolling, at mortal speed of course, around the desert, with the moonlight and stars to guide them.   
  
"When's the date?" Uncle asked one night over dinner. Daisy and Donald looked up, Daisy's hand over Donald's.  
  
"For when Uncle Scrooge?" Daisy asked innocently.  
  
The older man furrowed his brow. "You kids are delaying the inevitable. Or did you forget?" He pointedly looked at Donald's unlined face, as handsome as he was in 1799.  
  
"I haven't asked Daisy what she wants," Donald said, then turning to Daisy, "come with me Daisy. Before uncle  _ruins_ my surprise."   
  
Together, the two walked out of the kitchen and to the back of the house. Donald led Daisy slowly, on a path they hadn't been before.  
  
"Where are we going love?" She said quietly, although her excitement was seeping through her voice.   
  
What she saw left her breathless. Donald had hung up poles and strung lamps along them to create a canopy of lights. He extended his arm to her.  
  
"May I have this dance?"  
  
She giggled and took his hand. They twirled in the desert sand. The wind and the crickets and coyote howls were their music. After some time, he leaned close to her. Daisy's eyes fluttered, and her blush spread across her face.  
  
"Your heart is beating so fast," he murmured, "shall we rest?"   
  
She nodded as their twirling stopped. She rested her head on his chest. His heart was silent, and his layers of clothes couldn't prevent the icyness of his skin against hers.  
  
"Is this the life you would like?" He turned her face upwards to face him, his eyes locked with hers.  
  
"I love you so much Daisy, so much that it hurts. I couldn't bear to cause you harm. This life is a damned one. You're cursed by the sun. A prisoner of your thirst. Years and decades go by in the blink of an eye and you will be forever frozen. Is this the life you would like?"  
  
Daisy wondered if she  _could_ bear to live as he did. Drinking blood, avoiding the sun, always coming and going with pockets of dirt. He had been alive for at 100 years yet he struggled to maintain his thirst!   
  
Then, she thought about the weeks she had spent with him. She hadn't been this happy in her life. Ever. She could spend an eternity with her quirky lover and still find new things to love about him.  
  
"I do," she said in a clear voice. "I accept this new life. A life with you for better or for worse."  
  
"If you'll have me then," he shyly brought Daisy closer in a kiss. They had gone through the whole book. Endless, passionate kisses. Sweet, cheeky pecks. This one was no different. His lips enveloped hers. Slowly, they separated. His lips trailed kisses on her jaw, her nose, her temple, and her forehead.  
  
Her pulse quickened, and her heart beat faster and faster. Her hands gripped his dress shirt. She whispered a prayer and closed her eyes.  
  
She was a fountain of forbidden nectar. His throat burned and his eyes glowed red with desire and _thirst_. A strange thirst, not one to quench this throat, but a possessive one. To mark her, taste her, and hold her close so she could heal in his arms and his alone.  
  
"To forever," he proclaimed. Then, his mouth hovered on her neck. He kissed her neck, over and over until his fangs brushed over her and he bit down.  
  
His heavy breathing was muted from Daisy's screams as he separated himself from her neck. He bit her wrists to inject his poison, which coursed through her like molasses. Agony and pain were all the young woman felt. Donald held his beloved as she screamed and screamed.  
  
  
His uncle joined him not long after. Donald had Daisy cradled in his arms, the young woman had passed out from the shock. The poison had taken its course.  
  
"She'll be alright lad. It be best if you bring her inside. I'll clean up here." He took down the lights and the rope and the poles. The canopy of lights out at last.  
  
  
Donald watched over Daisy the next few days. She was recuperating fast, and would want blood.   
  
It happened after 3 days. Daisy's eyes opened, red as rubies. She was dizzy from hunger and the heat. She saw Donald rush to her side, holding her upward and talking to her.  
  
Clarity came right after. She could hear him apologizing and asking how she felt. Somehow, her vision and hearing was greater than before. She could see him in great detail. His red eyes didn't seem so ominous like before. His touch was slightly colder than hers, not like before when it was ice.  
  
  
"I'm thirsty love," she rasped, holding her hand to her throat. He bought her a glass immediately. She drank and drank like a soul lost in the desert. The cup was empty and Daisy nearly howled.  
  
The year flew for the lovebirds and uncle scrooge. Daisy hadn't been bestowed with the gift of hypnosis, but had been blessed with an affinity for animal blood instead of human. She controlled her thirst easier than the other two, and went back to learning how to be immortal. Getting ready in the morning without a mirror. Carrying dirt and sand satchels from the house. Controlling her inhuman strength.  
  
Donald doted on his lover in anyway possible. He red to her, composed poems of his ardent love, danced with her, painted her. In the short year they had been together, he found new ways to make his beloved smile and from her lips proclaim those three words he hadn't heard in 100 years:  
  
_I love you...._  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone liked it and thank you for reading!


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